Oh My!
by Kay the Cricketed
Summary: ^^;; ... I HAD to write this. Chris/Jalil slash *implications*- mostly humor purposes. Part One's up- Remember how Chris' lil' bro was led to believe that he was sleeping with Jalil in book 2...? ;)
1. First Contact

_Oh My!_

By Kay

Disclaimer: Heck, if I owned Everworld, Jalil would SO be proposed to by everyone in the five mile radius. Even Loki. Cause... he's just so cute. Bwahahaha. (Obviously-- I don't own EW.)

Author's Notes: La la la... SLASH IMPLICATIONS. :D Even if it's more or less only for humor, there's something at the end... this fic idea's been itching at my mind for ages, because I find it hilarious. So I just had to write it, even if I can't do the scene justice.

Remember when Christopher's little brother discovered he was "sleeping with a black man"? Bwahaha. Well...

You have to have read EW #2, and the scene where Christopher's little brother seems to believe he's sleeping with Jalil. And YES, the bro may be OOC, but I can't remember his character, and someone's borrowing my book. What was his name again! Max, Mark... UGH...

* * *

For what must have been the thousandth time, Jalil wondered what he was doing here.

It wasn't that there was anything he was worried about-- although the very idea of standing _here_, on this certain porch, watching the slightly cracked paint on the door frame of _this_ door, did make him somewhat uneasy. Still. It wasn't like there was anything he was anxious over. No reason why he'd want to get the _hell_ away from here as fast as possible.

Of course not. That would be silly.

Jalil scowled to himself, shifting impatiently while he considered-- again-- what he was doing. Didn't anyone ever answer the door in this house? It was so stupid, and he'd rang the doorbell at least three times, and he knew it wasn't broken because his ears caught the sound of the ringing inside the house. Then he resorted to knocking-- and nearly skinned his hand on the metal screen door frame. Obviously, just being here was already giving him bad luck.

Of course, there was no such thing. Unless you counted just _being_ here as bad luck. Which Jalil did, swearing up a storm in his mind, irritated at the lack of response from inside the house he stood by.

The dark eyed teenager eyed the door warily again, some part of his mind wondering if it would be safe to just yell and get it over with. A nice, "CHRISTOPHER, LET ME IN, YOU SONOFA--"

No, definitely not. Not unless he really wanted to go to jail this young.

Yes. Being at Christopher Hitchcock's house... really... really... _really _bothered him. But not enough to do something stupid and go to the slammer for it. Although the temptation was getting very hard to resist-- it was hot out, the July sunlight shimmering down over the sidewalks, heating his back up just enough to be uncomfortable. Not to mention, even with the hot air, there was no way he was going to stand around for fifteen minutes for some lazy, television-cramming idiot who didn't know the meaning of the word "inchoate."

Jalil cursed the morning he agreed to tutor Christopher for Chemistry. Cursed it literally.

Wasn't it bad enough that he had to deal with him in Everworld? He glared up at the house with narrowed eyes, noting all the shut windows. And didn't Christopher _say_ to be there at four, because no one would be home and no one would make a fuss? When he said no one would be home, Jalil had assumed that at least Christopher himself would be there. Obviously not.

Again, Jalil contemplated just pounding on the door and screaming random insults. Of course... the entire idea seemed childish when you thought about it. And of course, thinking was getting harder to do when you were bored and irritated out of your mind. And there was no way in hell he was going to wait for the lovely "family" to get home, and demand to know what a black teenager was doing, sitting on their front porch steps with a heavy backpack and a quickly sun-burning neck--

"Hey, what are you doing?"

It was a suspicious, wary voice. A voice that said, '_Hey, there's a black teenager sitting on my front porch steps with a heavy backpack and a sunburned neck. Wow.'_

Jalil froze, cursed himself and mostly Christopher three thousand times inwardly, and turned around cautiously. To his surprise, his own dark eyes met with two blinking, wide blue ones. A few feet shorter than his own eyelevel.

Quickly, without even moving his head, he warily surveyed the younger boy-- wild blonde hair, large pants that seemed almost like a skaters, backpack, _so_ obviously Christopher's little brother, and the person who was currently staring at him like he'd grown three heads.

"Dude," the boy commented, blinking. "Um... hey, what's up?"

_'At least he's not running and screaming rape yet,' _Jalil told himself darkly. Unless there was some miracle that Christopher's earlier racism-- which, granted, was fading-- didn't extend to his family. Instead, he just tried a polite, somewhat innocent smile directed at the younger brother.

"Nothing much. I was just looking for your brother, Christopher," he said casually. He calmly shifted his backpack so it looked less threatening-- or something. Although it didn't really seem likely things would end up with him doing something wrong, it never hurt to be prepared for something bad to happen. Good motto in life, Jalil thought.

Of course, the last thing he expected was for the boy's jaw to drop in shock.

And his eyes to widen to the size of dinner plates.

And to hear a squeak-- a _squeak_, of all things-- come from his mouth.

"Oh my god! You're... um... here to see, um, my brother? Oh god. Wow. Then you're... oh _man_..."

Jalil found himself, quite frankly, gaping in surprise. Staring, he watched the boy look around frantically, sputter aimlessly, and then grin widely, eyes shining, and wave his hands giddily.

"Dude! You must be the _guy_, right? The one... you know... he told me about you guys, I mean, he didn't _mean_ to, I know it was supposed to be a secret, huh? But, don't worry, man. Your secrets are safe with me."

Blinking, Jalil just shook his head in whirling confusion. It didn't _seem_ like Christopher's little brother was panicking about him, or was being rude. It just... felt weird. The boy was by now grinning like an complete idiot and trying (badly) to hide a smirk, and beaming at him like... well. Scarily.

Finally, he ventured, "Um... what secrets? What are you talking about?"

The little brother shook his head. "Oh, don't worry, homes. He told me everything, about you guys, I mean. About... you know, what was really going on." The blue eyes gave a significant look, and he nodded empathically. "The big secret. Nobody else knows, don't worry."

Jalil furrowed his brow, puzzled at the wording slightly, but wondering in the back of his head tiredly if this was all just some joke. Then-- it occurred to him, what was the only secret Christopher and him shared? Everworld. The crazy screwed up land of insanity they were stuck in for the time being, crossing over back and forth like ping-pong balls across a net. Of _course_. Although how his little brother came to find out, he didn't really want to know...

"You know about that?"

The little brother nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh."

Dark eyes blinked, cleared in understanding, and Jalil said, "Sorry, I just didn't think anyone else knew about it except for us. How'd you find out?"

"He accidentally blurted it out," the boy said, grinning.

"Sounds like Christopher."

"Yeah!" He hopped up easily on the porch, taller now, although no where near Jalil's height-- no doubt that'd be fixed if he got the same growth gene that Christopher had, the teenager mused to himself. Meanwhile, the blonde kid was tugging on his backpack while at the same turning to Jalil and attempting to talk while getting a key out of his pocket. Somehow he managed to do all these at the same time, in multitude. Jalil didn't even want to know how.

"You can come in, man, if you want. Y'know, I bet you were waiting for him, huh? I sympathize, homes, really. Bro has no idea what time it is half the time, and man, does he need a watch."

"I can imagine," Jalil said dryly, glancing at the empty driveway again and hesitating. "Hey, listen, if he's not going to be back, I'll just go--"

"No!" the boy protested, stopping the juggle of backpack and keys to look up at him. "I mean, how long has it been since you've seen each other? He could have something important to tell you! Or, um, I dunno. But I bet he'll be home soon, and you two can do whatever, y'know?" He shrugged, and tossed Jalil a funny look that he returned strangely.

"Oh... right then. Well, we were just going to study Chemistry--"

The boy chocked and started snickering madly. Jalil stopped and stared.

"What's wrong…?"

"N-nothing... you don't have to pretend with me, remember? I know about it already. Chemistry, hah, that was great..." Still smirking and cackling under his breath, the little brother opened the door and slid on through, before turning around to beckon to Jalil to enter. "Heh, come on in, homes-- the door's wide open! Mom and Dad won't be home until later, and Christopher should get here soon."

Jalil looked at him warily, clutching his backpack shoulder strap tightly in one slender hand, mentally considering. This didn't _look_ like a trap. Or. Something. Although the boy seemed kind of off balance, which was to be expected from someone related to Christopher...

"You're sure?" he asked quietly, disturbed.

The boy grinned big time. "You bet. I bet Christopher'll _love _to see you."

Jalil gave him one more odd look before sighing... staring at his backpack... and then walking through the doorway, shutting it behind him.

This was going to be interesting.

* * *

End of PART ONE:

Expect more. Cause... no matter how BAD this is written, and how UNfunny it is... I AM going to continue it. And things will SO get interesting. I promise:hugs: Thanks for tolerating it:) :) :) So far, at least, heh.


	2. "My Chemistry tutoring kicks arse."

Oh My!

By Kay

Disclaimer: I don't own Everworld. I own Jalil's pillowcases. That is all. Mwahaha.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews:shines: You're all the greatest, and I really appreciate your comments, they mean so much! (tackles everyone)

You make me happy. Therefore, I had to write more! And... judging by the wicked ideas going about my head, there will be more chapters, also. Heh. With MARK. (Thanks for all those who remembered the name, I've been going insane trying to get back Book #2 from my friend.) Anyway... as always, WARNING: THERE IS SLASH IMPLICATIONS. M/M. Mainly for humor's sake, mind you, but... hey. How do we know Mark's not on the right track? And again, I hope you've read Book #2, to see the "For your information, I'm in hell with a black man! I'm sleeping with him right now!" scene of Christopher's "confession" to his brother. XD

Let us go on!

* * *

"So... what's your name?" 

The boy looked up at the sound of Jalil's voice, and flashed a grin. "The name's Mark, actually. What's yours? I mean, Christopher, man... he didn't tell me much about you."

"I don't know why he would. He doesn't exactly take pride in the fact we even know each other," Jalil answered dryly, clutching his backpack strap and glancing around at the interior of the Hitchcock household. It looked fairly normal, like the typical home he expected someone like Christopher would live in, all the furniture good but not all matched. Framed pictures on the wall, white carpet in the living room... it was very nice. Relaxed and casual.

The dark eyed teenager shook his head for a second, loosing his train of thought. He turned back to... Mark, that was it... and nodded. "My name's Jalil."

Mark raised an eyebrow and threw his backpack on the floor offhandedly. "Jalil, huh?"

"Yes..." Jalil stared at him warily. "Is that a problem?"

"What! Oh... no, not at all, I _like_ it, it sounds nice," the boy stammered, a red tint appearing in his cheeks. He mumbled something and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. "I mean... I just wondered..."

"Yeah?" _'If he asks me if it's African, I'm going to run screaming_,' Jalil told himself silently.

"Um... isn't that Hindu?"

Jalil resisted the urge to throw his arms to the ceiling and praise the Lord, especially since he didn't believe in that sort of bull. Instead he settled on a nice, loud, screaming shout of, '_YES'_ to filter through his head. However, to avoid stares and visits to a therapist, he didn't say anything aloud, just grinned widely at Mark.

"Yeah, it is. It means 'godlike,'" he answered.

Mark nodded, and asked abruptly, "Hey, homes... you want somethin' to eat? I mean, usually I have a snack after school, and since we're just, like, waiting around..."

"Sure," Jalil replied, relaxing. He was taking a warming to this kid. God, he didn't ask about his name. This really couldn't be Christopher's brother could it? Probably some sort of adoption, maybe cloning or egg cells from some better being or something... blood transfusion at an early age. Alien child incorporated into the family. (Human child incorporated into Christopher's alien family?)

Then, aware that his thoughts were giddy and somewhat insane, Jalil decided it was probably best to just follow Mark to the kitchen and consider this a stroke of luck. Maybe when Christopher got here, they'd actually do some Chemistry and he'd leave perfectly fine.

Meanwhile, showing Jalil the way to the kitchen, all Mark could think was--

_'Godlike?' _Mental snickering ensued. _'I wonder if bro worships or coverts him?'  
_  
And then, a quickly fleeting thought-- '_... virgin sacrifice_?' -- that made Mark choke on his breath and start giggling hysterically at the image of Jalil in white, laying on an altar, with his brother yelling strange incantations.

Jalil only stared warily at the giggling, disturbed once again. He was seriously doubting the mental state of Christopher's brother now... even if he _did_ know "Jalil" wasn't an African name. Jesus, the whole family _was _wacko-- he knew it was to good to be true.

"So, um, do you know what Christopher will be home? At all?" he asked slowly.

"Umm... well, knowing my bro, it'll only be a little bit." Mark shrugged, before pushing open a door. "Oh, this is the kitchen. It's kinda messy because Mom hasn't cleaned the house for a while, but there's room to sit down."

Jalil peered inside the brightly lit room, decorated in warm yellows and wooden tones, more or less clean except for the dishes heaped in the sink and papers on the main table. It looked... almost like his own, except more untidy. His own parents had a slight cleaning, fixing fascination.

"It looks like ours," Jalil remarked, and then rolled his eyes mentally. Was there any real reason he had to say that? He'd been in the sun to long, obviously, if he was attempting to make "small talk" with Christopher's little brother.

"Really? Cool." Mark was already opening the refrigerator, rummaging around in its contents quickly. "Um, you like Cola or what? We have juice and milk, too... orange juice! Good stuff. Er..."

"Soda is fine with me," Jalil said slowly, sitting down awkwardly at the table and leaning his backpack carefully against the table legs. The younger blonde watched him over the refrigerator door for a moment before coming up with two cans of pop, and quickly shutting it to join his new friend at the table.

They opened the cans, Jalil taking a cautious sip and Mark gulping done half the caffeine in five seconds.

"So... how'd it start? This thing with you and Christopher, I mean," Mark ventured finally, shifting anxiously on the chair. His blue eyes widened slightly. "He didn't exactly explain, y'know?"

"I'm not sure there's an explanation _for_ it," Jalil replied darkly, staring glumly at the Cola can gripped between his hands. "It just... happened. We're not even really sure how it occurred-- the person who was responsible for the entire mess keeps disappearing on us."

So there was a matchmaker involved. Mark grinned quietly to himself, feeling triumphant at the knowledge that he was finally going to find out more about his brother's "lover." Although there was a definite bitter edge to the older teen's voice. "You don't sound really happy about it, man."

"I'm _not_."

Mark stared at him oddly. "... why not?"

It was Jalil's turn to look at him funny, confusion and disbelief flashing in his dark eyes. "Why should I be happy about it? We're in hell! And we can't get out of it either, not really. I can't count how many times I've come close to getting killed."

Mark's head was spinning. Killed was not a general word associated with dating his brother. Although, considering his brother and his obvious denial problem, he could see why Jalil would definitely get on Christopher's nerves. The boy had a no nonsense, take it for the truth air about him that would generally tick his brother off. Majorly. "You know, Christopher said the same thing... said it was hell. Is it really that bad, dude?"

"Yes, yes it _is_." Taking a violent swig of soda, Jalil sighed at the table in discontent. "I'd go back to the way things were before, if I could."

"So it was okay in the beginning? Did it just get bad later?"

"I meant, before it even happened," Jalil said dryly. "Maybe you think it would be cool, but I wasn't exactly pleased from the start. And your brother isn't exactly the best person to get stuck with, you realize. He's not exactly... open to different sorts of people." The racial bastard, he thought darkly in his head. It was surprising they hadn't killed each other yet, the stupid idiot.

"I feel your pain, homes." And Mark _did_. He looked sadly down at his drink, frowning at it in contemplation. His brother must suck to be with-- this poor guy sounded just plain worn out and angry at the situation. He was right-- Christopher wouldn't be open to the idea of being gay, much less with someone like Jalil.

Poor guy. It must suck.

"Well," he said bravely to Jalil, startling even him with the abrupt statement. "I think Christopher's stupid. I think you're great, and he should appreciate you."

Jalil blinked. And looked at the boy in surprise. Then, feeling an oddly amused and pleased feeling from within, he said with a slight smile, "Thanks. You're really different from him."

"If I was in Christopher's shoes, I wouldn't fight with you and stuff! He's just a jerk sometimes, man." Mark said loudly, announcing it now that he was on a roll. Getting approval from brother's boyfriend-- highest priority! And then he'd have to have a "discussion" with Christopher later on being nicer. Idiot bro.

"Thanks," Jalil chuckled lowly, a small grin appearing on his face at the obvious indignation on Mark's face. "But he's getting better. And I can outfight him any day."

"You have to fight him? Like, physically?" Mark stared in horror. Obviously his brother's relationship with Jalil was a _lot_ tougher than it looked.

"He didn't tell you that?" Jalil snorted contemptuously, and took another drink of Cola. His hands folded on the table calmly. "We don't get along, you should know that."

"But... man, homes, that's like intense. It's wrong," Mark protested worriedly. "No one should, I mean, but y'know... especially you two."

It was true, the dark eyed boy thought to himself. In Everworld, fighting only tore what few allies they had apart. And they'd gotten into bad company before because of their loud and violent sprawls.

"Trust me, in our situation? It's got us in a lot of trouble before," Jalil muttered under his breath. "Once we got caught by... unsavory characters... while messing around."

"Oh god, really? Did you get hurt?" Mark over imaginative mind was already whipping out images -- his brother and Jalil trading an innocent kiss in an alley, only to be seen by homophobic thugs who were passing by and--

"Eh, not really." Jalil's calm voice subsided those fears. "We could have died, probably, but we escaped in the end. The drunken god helped, to be exact. And some pretty boy in a loincloth. Long story, don't really want to go into it. God, that was a bad time..."

Mark stared with wide, oceanic blue eyes in something akin to wonder. So someone must have come by, then helped them out and got rid of the stupid thugs. Nice to know there were some good people in the world. "That was good luck, man... getting out of it, I mean. It wouldn't have been cool if the bad guys got their way in the end."

"Yeah, it wouldn't have been cool, so to speak." Jalil grinned at that. "But we made it out okay."

"Didn't something like that help you and Christopher to get along better?" the youth inquired curiously.

"Well... kinda. Maybe. I don't know." He thought hard for a moment. "Yeah, I guess we were closer after that... not a lot, but more. It wasn't that long ago, actually."

"Huh. That's good. Less fighting an' stuff, I hope."

"Uh-huh." Jalil finished off his drink, and then glanced at the clock above the sink, a small wooden one with simple roman numerals on it. "Um... it's been a while, isn't your brother coming home soon? I mean, he promised to meet me and everything..."

Mark grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his wild strands of blond hair. "Eheh... well, I bet he'll be here soon. It's been nice talking, though, right? Man, I wanted to meet you."

"Why did you want to meet _me_?" Jalil asked incredulously. He glanced at the boy in confusion, tilting his head to the left.

"Um, cause, you know... I was curious about you both 'cause Christopher never really talks about you."

"Probably not. We don't really like each other." At that, Mark blinked and thought to himself, _'Freaky freaky relationship. The sex must rock, that's all.'_

Still... he liked Jalil. So maybe his brother did... but was having trouble expressing his true feelings! That was just like him!

Newly inspired, Mark grinned happily at the boy sitting across from him at the kitchen table, and announced, "Don't worry! I'm sure he really likes you more than he shows, he's just shy!"

"... Christopher? Shy?" Jalil suddenly coughed, trying to stop the shaking laughter that rumbled through him. "Mark, you have the wrong brother, I think."

"Well, I bet he does. Don't give up on him yet."

Gently shaking his head, Jalil replied softly, "I don't really care. Christopher can think whatever he wants to about me, I really don't give a damn. So it doesn't _matter_, you realize that? You're thinking a lot about this for something that's not even happening to you."

"Weeeell... I just think it's not fair to you." Mark sighed and tapped his hand on the wooden table surface with frustration. "My brother can be an idiot, man."

"Yeah, well, not your fault." Taking another quick glance at the clock, Jalil finally stood up, reaching down quickly to pick up his backpack at the same moment. "Well, I really have to get going here--"

"Wait! Um, don't you want to see my brother?"

Jalil raised an eyebrow, already shouldering the backpack. "Mark... I can tutor him in Chemistry any time after school. Even during school, probably, if we can find the time."

Mark tried not to think about that. Definitely not. Somehow, even though he didn't mind his brother and Jalil _together_… The faintest mention or idea of them making out in locker rooms or bathroom stalls or supply closets or god knows where-- no, no, that didn't sit well with his mind at all. Although it was kind of funny. God yes.

Love must really be worth it, if you were going to make out in a school closet.

"Well... okay, if you're sure. I'm sorry he wasn't home," he finally said apologetically. "Nice to meetcha, though, y'know?"

"Same here," Jalil said warmly, nodding with a rare smile aimed at the young boy. "You're a lot nicer than your big brother, Mark. Tell him he'd better show up next time, or I'll just give the whole deal up, okay?"

"Definitely," Mark said hurriedly, his face falling. They couldn't break up! Not this time. "I mean, I'm sure he didn't mean to be late, I _know_ he must've remembered..."

"S'okay. Bye!" With a quick wave, Jalil exited the room and left. Leaving a worried and still giddy boy behind in his wake, staring after him.

_'... well. I'm going to give Bro a talking to when he gets home. Doesn't he know how to treat his boyfriends right?'_

Jalil would also find a pamphlet for "Date Abuse" stuck inside his mailbox about two days later.

* * *

End of Part TWO-- and yes, there will be more. XD I'm far from through with these boys... next! Mark scolds Christopher, who gets completely confused, and Jalil has another ill fated meeting with his new protector! Eeee, Mark, your love advice sucks. And yes, April and David finally enter the conversation-- but not in the way things seem... 

... yes, I suck. But I am amused. It is 2:43 in the morning. I HAVE ORANGE JUICE.

... did I mention I love you all? (grins) Quimby is nice. (Didn't you write that awesome, stunning Animorphs Tobias slash? Or am I thinking someone else?) You ALL are nice.


End file.
